


Blood Runs Thicker Than Ink

by Fighting4Fandoms



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fighting4Fandoms/pseuds/Fighting4Fandoms
Summary: Everyone knew that Joey Drew had temperamental issues and that they didn't go away when he was with Henry... much to Henry's dismay.
Relationships: Joey Drew/Henry Stein
Kudos: 29





	Blood Runs Thicker Than Ink

Darkness ran thicker in the inside of the apartment than the ink that was used to design the characters in the Joey Drew Studios cartoons. 

That day ended rather differently than how it began. 

It began with the smell of freshly ground coffee and newly poured ink in the wells on Henry's desk in a small corner of the studios. 

Joey was sitting in his office. He was looking at the new pictures of the characters that Henry designed. There was a tall, beautiful angel, a wolf with overalls, and a little, dancing demon. 

Henry had a smile on his face whilst he painted and drew. Although they pictures were black and white, Henry could see a colourful world on the sheet of paper in front of him. He always had a strange imagination but once be started, those creative juices just kept pouring out of him in huge quantities. 

The day was perfectly fine until they went home. Joey had already been in the apartment for a while by the time Henry got there. That smile was still very clear on Henry's race when he saw Joey but it soon vanished. 

"Joey?" Henry called out when he saw the bottle on the floor, the beer leaking out like blood of an open wound. 

On the coffee table in front of Joey was a letter, addressed to Henry... from a rival studio.

"You leavin' me?" Joey asked in a low voice. 

Henry didn't answer straight away which sparked a flame of anger that Joey had shown the other man more often than either of them would admit. 

"Not talking?" Joey flashed a pair of red eyes to Henry. 

"I- I- I-" Henry tried to speak but no words formed. 

"You you you- stuttering? Really? Can't tell me the truth?" Joey got up from the sofa and stalked towards Henry. Henry felt himself back away until his back hit the wall behind him. 

"I- I was gonna talk to you-"

Joey hit the wall, a few inches away from Henry's face. 

"Speak." Joey growled. "And I if I think that you're lying-" he didn't need to finish the sentence. 

Henry gulped. No matter what he would say, Storm Joey would refuse to believe him. 

"They saw some pictures," Henry explained, "they offered me a job."

Henry didn't even have time to dodge the blow that hit his face, hitting his eyes and cutting his lip. He fell to the side, falling to the floor. Joey dragged him up by his collar. 

"Get this in your head." Joey snarled, saliva spilling out of his lips. "You belong to me. I own you and no one else does."

"I was-" 

Joey laid another harsh smack against Henry's cheek. 

Henry didn't dare open his mouth again. He tried to pretend that he was somewhere else, somewhere happier. He didn't know what he had done to warrant this. He never did. It seemed that anything could piss Joey off these days. 

"Please, Joey, I can't keep doing this." Henry had never stood up for himself before. It was evident because Joey scoffed. 

"How selfish of you, Henry." Joey said, kicking Henry in the chest with his knee. "Well you always were. Keeping those pictures to yourself when you could have shared them with me."

Henry blocked the next few minutes out of his head. He felt the kicks and the punches and the slaps. The punches hurt more because of the rings that Joey wore on his fingers. He felt the numerous cuts that were left on his face, as well as the black eye. 

The thing with Joey and Henry was that they were two sides of the same coin. Joey was a harsher side, a truth to reality. Henry, on the other hand, was a kind soul. A soul that bad things happened to. He never complained about his treatment. Henry was a beautiful soul. He saw things, not always as they were, but in the best light they could be. That included Joey. Most people saw a cruel tyrant. Henry saw his friend. His... partner. 

Just recently though, Joey was beginning to use Henry. Physically and mentally. Henry didn't have much profit from the studios. It was Joey's empire, his dream. It was Henry's effort though but Joey seemed to forget that. 

Curled up on his side, Henry waited for Joey to leave the room when he finally collected himself from the floor. He tried to ignore the big red stains on the carpet. Limping, he made his way to the front door. He needed space. Space that the apartment couldn't give him. 

This happened more often than Henry liked to admit. Someone asked him what he saw in Joey and Henry didn't know the answer anymore. Just last week, Henry only said one thing that seemed to anger Joey and Joey decided on a punishment that Henry couldn't erase from his mind. He pushed him onto the bed, punching him in the side of the head. The ringing could still be heard when it became too quiet. Henry was glad that Joey passed out from the alcohol before he managed to do anything but he fell asleep on top of Henry. Henry couldn't move even if Joey wasn't on top of him. Fear had frozen him to the spot. 

Opening the door, Henry slipped out of the apartment. He sat himself on the floor for a moment, his breathing ragged from the punch to the throat. Blood dribbled down his nose, making him taste metal in his mouth. Henry was far too tired to cry. He could only think of one place that was close enough for refuge for the night. The studio. He had his key on him. It would be dark but at least it would be shelter from the rain. 

Henry never knew what he did to annoy Joey. It seemed to be even just breathing these days. Walking to the studio, all he could think about was what Joey had shouted at him that night. He couldn't hear everything but there was one think that Henry couldn't quite get out of his mind. 

"I own you." 

What did Joey mean by that? 

Henry could remember a time when they were teenagers with dreams. It seemed that Joey's dreams had turned into Henry's nightmares. 

No one was at the studio when Henry arrived there. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. He saw his desk in the far corner with the drawings of Bendy, Alice Angel, and Boris the Wolf. He put a lot of love into his drawings, far more than Joey ever put into him. At the moment, it was just the two of them in the studio. Henry knew that Joey would stop at nothing to make his studio the best. Yes. His studio. Henry wasn't in the name. He was responsible for making the cartoons though. Joey wasn't the best artist. He always made his drawings too terrifying and there were always flaws. Not that Henry would ever say that. It was mean and Henry wasn't a mean person. If the roles were reversed, Henry knew that Joey wouldn't hesitate to tell him his imperfections. He did it anyway. 

Henry sat himself at his desk, the blood had dried up on his face. The back of his head was covered in blood, his wrist felt like it was broken and he felt so tired. For a moment, there was peace, except for the ringing in his head. He could remember the first time that Joey hit him. He couldn't quite remember why he hit him but he did. He had the scar on his temple to remind him. 

Yawning, Henry put his head on his desk, covering himself with his overcoat. The stabbing pain in his head only grew the more he tried to go to sleep. Therefore, Henry decided to not try and let sleep take him instead.

*

The next morning, Joey woke up in his bed with a throbbing pain in his head. He didn't know why he drank so much but he did. It eased the pain in his heart, why his heart hurt he didn't know that either. 

He entered the living room and sighed when he saw the mess. He thought he told Henry to clean the shit up. He saw the blood on the carpet and his eyes widened. Where was Henry? 

He often thought about his treatment against Henry. That man was too gentle for his own good. He had never stood up for himself before the previous night. The memories of yesterday were blurry. They were muffled. He couldn't quite remember everything except for the sound of crying. Henry's crying. He remembered throwing him, on the floor and on their bed. Henry never fought back and Joey didn't quite understand why. Did Henry care so little about himself that he couldn't fight back?

No. 

It was the opposite. 

He care so much for Joey that he didn't fight back. 

Joey left the apartment and drove to the studio. He didn't know what to expect when he arrived there but what he did know was that he figured that Henry would be there. 

And he was right.

Joey saw Henry at his desk, his face turned away from him. Joey sighed and entered the office. 

He sat there for a while, writing and drinking. He took a glimpse at Henry, he could see the paleness in his skin.


End file.
